Larsen crosses his arms. “I’m not letting you distract me. I want to know how you cheated.”
I glance at Beckett, and he shrugs. “Don’t tell him. Make him sweat it.”
“So you did cheat?! I knew it. Li! I told you they cheated. They’ve just admitted it.” He twirls around, trying to find his friend.
“Did we admit to that?” I ask him.
“I didn’t hear you.” J.D. smirks.
We all disperse, leaving behind an annoyed Larsen.
“Good work out there, Queenie,” Beckett says as I turn to go to my office.
“You, too. I guess we make a pretty good team.”
As I work that afternoon, my mind keeps drifting back to Beckett and the limited time we have left together, trying to convince myself that maybe we could still be friends. Maybe we could still hang out and watch film together a couple of days a week or something. Just when we’re home. Just as friends. Maybe.
Chapter 22
Finley
“Okay,”Imuse,tappingmy key against the door to my hotel room, “this is starting to get weird. Did you request to room on the coaches’ floor or something?”
Beckett shakes his head. “No. And I’m wondering if I should be insulted.”
“Worried they saw your age and assumed you were a coach?” I ask.
“You’re kind of a bully, you know that, right?”
I smile. “I’ve been called worse.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asks, leaning against the wall rather than scanning his card to go into his room.
“High school boys don’t like to be outplayed by a girl. And not every man thinks a woman should be coaching a professional men’s hockey team. I’ve been called a four-letter word or two.”
“There are a lot of stupid people in this world.”
“That there are,” I agree.
We stand there, staring at each other for what is certainly an inappropriate length of time.
“I’m not sure how I feel about you being next to me, rather than across the hall,” I say finally. “It’s going to force me to reorient myself.”
“Do you think about where I am often?” Beckett asks, a smug smile playing on his face.
Constantly.Even when I’m not thinking about it, I somehow know where he is. It’s like he’s magnetic north, and I’m a compass. My soul has shifted, so it’s always trying to align with him.
It’s terrible.
“I’m a hockey coach. It’s my job to be aware of everything and everyone around me.”
His smile grows, as if he’s aware of the truth beneath my lies.
“If you want to discuss film later…” I know it’s risky when we spend time together on away trips. But I also hate the idea of missing out on the time we get to be Finley and Beckett rather than Coach Blake and Kane.
He nods. “Right. That would work… to go over that play from tonight.”
“Okay.”
